Book 1: Sirius Secrets About the Order of the Raven
by NanetteRyder
Summary: Following the next generation, Hogwarts returned vamped up with old namesakes. Sirius, Albus, Rose, and other new faces go through the turmoils and wonders of their first year of Hogwarts to find it riddled with a deadly aura haunting a friend. With werewolves low on respect and hope, the next generation strikes out to light the way in the darkened corridors of Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Late Deliveries

Mr. and Mrs. Ma`eva were very kind people. Mr. Ma`eva used to be a writer and would write simply fabulous books that would be published and read by many lovely people. It happened one day that he had a nasty fall down the stairs and found that the incident had left his brain scrambled. The poor man could no longer create his cunning plots or shape his multi-faceted characters. The Ma`evas were very smart people and had kept most of his hard earned money in savings, leaving little to want for in their ripe age of seventy-six.

While this was all well and dandy, Mr. Ma`eva would sit most nights at the little breakfast table with a notepad and scribble and scribble and try to recreate something even close to his former glory. His inability to participate in one of his favorite past times greatly disturbed and frustrated him. By the morning, balls of yellow paper would sometimes be ankle deep with every sentence hardly making sense with itself much less each other.

It was a night like this that found the couple sitting together. Mr. Ma`eva determinedly making letters on paper and Mrs. Ma`eva, having taken too late a nap that day, sipping on some Earl Grey tea. Every few minutes or so she'd offer her husband some Earl Grey to which he'd ask for coffee, which they hadn't had in their house for forty years.

It was storming terribly that particular night. Buckets of water slammed against the windows loudly. Their nearly senile golden retriever Nana was sprawled across the entry way mat, stiff and unmoving, like someone had simply stuffed the poor creature and left her there as a decoration. Frequently, a clap of thunder shook the air.

"I want some coffee!" Mr. Ma`eva yelled at his wife, starting to worry that she couldn't hear him then almost instantly forgetting his request.

If it hadn't been for Nana, the old couple probably wouldn't have heard the knock on the door over the obnoxious weather. As it was, they had no idea what was wrong when Nana suddenly lifted her old head and began to bark at a blank wall. It might have been left with Nana barking and the storm raging if Mrs. Ma`eva had wished to be asked for coffee one more time. As it happened, this was not her desire. She eased herself out of her chair and went to pat the dog on the head. Without faltering, the straining dog continued to reprimand the wall.

"No one's there, Nana. Look no one's outside either. Yes, look. No on-oh. Hello, dears! Come in, come in!" the old woman ushered the young children into her house, "Samuel, we have company!"

"No, I want coffee!"

"Samuel..." Mrs. Ma`eva turned kindly towards the little girls, drenched to the bone, "Oh my! What happened to your little sister?"

"She got scared." the bigger little girl answered. She had long black hair and scratches on her face and arms. She was supporting the little toe-headed girl.

"Samuel!" Mrs. Ma`eva yelled at her husband, "I'll just get a towel, dear." the old woman hobbled up the staircase as quickly as she could. The conscious child watched her quietly.

"Grace, how many times do I have to ask for coffee?" Mr. Ma`eva came out of the kitchen. His eyes widened at his damp guests. "You aren't Grace." Nana had finally gotten to her feet and was excitedly sniffing the flower pot next to the door that was a few feet away from the girls.

Mr. Ma`eva came up to the little girls. The older one gave him a stony look.

"Samuel, take that little one to the couch!" Mrs. Ma`eva called as she came back down the stairs, a stack of towels in her arms. The older one grudgingly gave her sister up and closely followed behind Mr. Ma`eva as he carried her to the living room.

"Maybe we should call an ambulance." Mrs. Ma`eva said worriedly, putting a towel around the black haired girl's shoulders and rubbing some feeling back into her numb skin before turning to the other little one.

"So," Mrs. Ma`eva said when the little girls were warmer and only a little damp. Mr. and Mrs. Ma`eva were sitting with the bigger girl at the breakfast table with hot cocoa, "Where are your mummy and daddy?"

The little girl turned her spoon around in her hot drink for a few minutes. Then she glanced over her shoulder at her little sister. "They died." she replied, her eyes lowered. Her face was riddled with bandaids to help heal up the multiple scratches.

Mrs. Ma`eva silently caught her breath while Mr. Ma`eva began to scribble on his paper again, seemingly untroubled.

"W-what happened, dear?"

"A werewolf killed them."

"A-a werewolf? Dear, those creatures are nightmare horrors."

"Oh." the little girl's gray eyes examined the old couple a few quiet seconds. "I see. You're Muggles."

"Mugs?" Mrs. Ma`eva asked, confused, leaning forward.

"Where's that coffee?" Mr. Ma`eva resurfaced from his cloud as he crumpled up another sheet of paper and tossed it nonchalantly on the floor.

"Samuel, are you even listening?"

"Listening to what-who is that, Grace?" Mr. Ma`eva leaned and readjusted his glasses to look at the little girl who matched his look with a stony air.

Nana walked into the door frame a few times.

"Oh!" Mr. Ma`eva snapped his fingers excitedly, "The stork finally came, did it, Grace. I thought that was just an old wives' tale. We really have been doing it wrong all these years." the old man excitedly began to write on another sheet of paper.

"Don't worry, dear, he's a little better in the morning." Mrs. Ma`eva sighed.

"Mummy!" a soft voice called from the couch. The old woman and the little girl hurried over to look at the little blonde girl who was vigorously rubbing her eyes. "Who are you." she said icily upon seeing the other little girl. The latter's expression darkened severely.

"Did your sister hit her head when she got scared?" Mrs. Ma`eva asked the dark girl worriedly.

"Half-sister." she replied sharply, leaning away from the couch and the blonde girl. "She's a Valerian, Phoebe Valerian. I'm a Black, Sirius Black."

"What unusual names." Mrs. Ma`eva said as she leaned over Phoebe.

Phoebe blinked half-closed blue eyes at her.

"Are you going to send us away?" she asked sadly.

It took many trips into downtown before the little girls were allowed to stay with the old couple and a few more before they fully understood that Phoebe's traumatic experience, whatever it had been that night, had been locked away in her mind to protect herself. The little girl couldn't recall anything before that night. It took weeks for her to understand the dark little girl was her sister but she readily accepted the Ma`evas as "Mummy" and "Papa".

It took a few months for Mr. Ma`eva to wake up and remember that he now had a six and seven year old in his house. He had stopped asking what their names were but continued to ask where the coffee was. Mrs. Ma`eva seemed to be filled with energy at the idea of getting up early and making a big breakfast for the children she had always wanted. She had more patience with her idle-minded husband with the girls around.

After a year, routines had been set up and she soon began to look forward to sending Phoebe to first grade and Sirius to second. Phoebe was doing great in the home. She loved to read big books and would read for hours with Mr. Ma`eva. On bad days, she would read his best books to him. Mrs. Ma`eva would sit and knit and listen., smiling and wondering why her perfect family had to come so late, when she was so low on energy.

Unfortunately, Sirius didn't do half as well as her little sister.

The dark girl would sometimes stay in her room the better part of the day. She was quiet and wouldn't say much, maybe because Mrs. Ma`eva kept trying to ask what happened the night they met and spend most of her energy scolding the little girl for the tricks she'd play. The eight year old had gone to saying "I don't remember" involving most questions of her past and had developed a habit of saying the same thing if there was a question she didn't desire to answer. Mrs. Ma`eva usually scolded her if her question was cut off by the moody child.

She said nothing more of werewolves or Muggles but sometimes Mrs. Ma`eva would catch her downstairs in the middle of the night, listening at the front door and peeking out the living room windows, as if waiting for something to come looking for them. Sirius spent time with the family either making jokes of a more negative nature or silently watching her sister, as if waiting for some sort of strange thing to suddenly happen.

Mrs. Ma`eva was only happy that Sirius helped Nana. Nana was the little girl's only friend and companion as long as she could keep up. The old woman also knew that Sirius didn't dislike the family, she was "in the mourning period" as the psychiatrist explained. It would take longer for Sirius to accept another family since she remembered her other so well and had been ripped away from them so violently. The little girl did refer to the old couple as Aunt and Uncle Ma`eva sweetly.

Once Mrs. Ma`eva was awoken earlier than usual by the smell of brewing coffee. She found Sirius downstairs, moody as usual. The old woman had begun to take out the customary breakfast items while the little girl watched her silently.

"Where did you find coffee, Sirius?" the old woman finally asked while she heated up the stove top.

"I asked the neighbors." she replied quietly. A few minutes passed in silence. "Please, please don't get hurt because of me. Please don't ever die."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Walk Down Fanshawe Crescent

Sirius and Phoebe stood out on the curb, waiting for the bus. Phoebe wanted to attend summer school so she could learn faster and get more done. Sirius was supposed to be attending classes that she'd missed too much of-which meant all of her classes. Usually, she went to school then sent herself home of a terrible stomachache and a splitting headache. But today was different.

She didn't have the time to waste today.

The month before, she had her eleventh birthday. And at least **she** could remember what happened on the summer of one's eleventh birthday. And it was in that morning's post that her dreams had been confirmed. She had no one to share her revelation and triumph with. She had no one to cheer with so she simply did a victory dance around an oblivious Nana, even worse in her old age than she had been when Sirius had first come.

It was July and it was hot, a muggy day that hung around the little girl's shoulders. But the unsavory weather couldn't disrupt the determined girl's plans. And she had plenty of them.

The bus finally pulled up and Phoebe and Sirius went in, dropping their change. Phoebe, nose buried in a book, ignored her sister the whole ride. When the stop for the school came, Phoebe got off. Sirius smirked as she watched her sister out the window look around as she realized her sister wasn't next to her.

"Sirius!" Phoebe called, scolding. Sirius waved and stuck her tongue out as the bus pulled away. There was absolutely no way Sirius was wasting any more precious time on that school. She had just gotten her letter to freedom and magic.

Sirius didn't ride very long. The next stop, she got off and went on her merry way, making her way the long way back to her house. This way would take her back to her starting point with only a brief detour home.

Sirius's old home was a yellow house. In the four years it had been vacant and lonely, the paint had mostly held up and was only just starting to peel around the edges. However, dust was heavy on the windows. Humorously, ragged police tape had withstood the elements and was still attempting to dutifully bar the ripped door from any trespassers.

Quietly, Sirius stepped through the gate and went through the tall grass to the weakening porch. The door was closed but huge claw marks glared out through the white door, the doorknob gouged out. She stood there only a few minutes before jumping off the porch and going around to the backyard.

She waded through the weeds and went under when she reached the little tree that had been so much smaller four years ago. Sirius began to rake up the weeds and hard dirt with her fingers before reaching the little hand shovel that had only been buried shallowly. She dug down into the roots of the tree until she hit the box she was diligently searching for. She uncovered it and yanked it forcefully out of the ground, pulling the edges that hadn't been etched out as well.

It was a red box, smaller than she recalled when it had been buried. Her coming of age present.

And she had finally come of age.

The box wasn't locked. It popped open when she pressed on the latch. Inside, were only a few things. And she smiled at every one because her clear memory could recall every article.

The first was a little black key on a green ribbon. It had been foraged in the blood of her father, made by goblins to prove his lineage to the Black family, being the last blood heir. Everything that hadn't gone to her grandfather's godson, meaning everything his parents had hidden away in a separate vault for not him, belonged to her now that her father was gone. Sirius dropped the key over her head, putting the blood key under her shirt.

Next was a picture of her father. It wasn't a moving picture like she wished it was. Her father had taken this picture the Muggle way as a joke. It was the only picture left of him, this joke, but he had taken it smiling, black hair out of his face and eyes. He was the son of Sirius Black, raised in America by his mother, his birth unknown to his young father across the seas. Smokey Black had returned to England in hopes of finding his father, only to find the man's death. Her father had remained in England to court her mother and eventually die when Sirius wasn't even born.

The last article in the box was a strong, long wand. The wand of her father. Her last inheritance of a man she'd never known. Sirius and her sister weren't like other people, due to their parents. They had lived in another world before the werewolf had ripped down the door. They were witches of the wizarding world and next year Phoebe would get her letter.

Sirius put the wand and picture back in the box and pulled out a long strap. She fastened the box then attached the strap to each end of it. She put it over her head and shifted it so it rested on the small of her back. And away she went.

She paused to look back at the house of her childhood and was flooded by last memories and horrors and advice. Then a boy broke the silence.

"I'm in England, right?"

Sirius looked away from the house to the chubby boy.

"Of course."

He was wringing his hands and wiping them together, faster and faster. He was beginning to breathe faster. Sirius instinctively took a step away from him.

"Oh. Then this is my country. Why don't any of the signs make sense? Why can't I read anything? Everything's mashing together...squiggily lines everywhere-what is this-what is that-I'm loosing my mind-my hope-my sanity-"

"Calm down." Sirius ordered sharply. The boy jerked his orb like eyes towards her nervously. They were a dreamy blue that looked out of place with the heavy crease his brows had made constantly since the two had met. "Everything's fine. Just breathe. Breathe. Good. Now look. Look."

The boy blinked at her then began to turn around, staring at the numbers and signs like they were the sweetest things he'd ever seen.

"I should have gotten off the bus." the boy mumbled while he continued to rotate in his slow circle, "I thought about getting off, I really did. But then I thought about going down the steps and what if I fell right off the bus and landed on my face? Then I'd be the laughing stock and my father would have to either stand there or help me and everyone would laugh at him too. So I just stood there and thought and then the bus doors just closed. And I was in. But my father was out. The bus started to move and my dad looked around and started to run after the bus. I think he was yelling but no one could hear him in the bus. And I-I couldn't say anything. How could I? Because then the bus would abruptly stop and all the traffic would stop and everyone would be yelling and my dad would be embarrassed and would have to scold me. So I just had to watch him get smaller and smaller. He didn't even catch up when the bus finally stopped. And I couldn't get off. I didn't know where I was. So I stayed on. And on. And, then...well, the bus driver told me I was being a bum and told me to get off. And I couldn't tell him otherwise or argue with him because I'm me and what right do I have? So I got off and then, well, I just started walking and now I'm really lost and everything is in Arabic and I'm loosing my mind." He stopped suddenly. "I have panic attacks. Am I making any sense?"

"Did you take any breaths in that run on?" Sirius looked at him curiously. "Where did you come from?"

"I'm not making any sense am I? I'm not going to get home-I'm going to crawl in the gutter and die and I'll have caused trouble for you and my father and-and-and-" his chest heaved up and down rapidly. He thrust his hand into his pocket suddenly and yanked out some strong smelling leaves and began to inhale them, his breathing beginning to even.

"Peppermint." Sirius observed, even farther away from him now.

"I-have-panic-attacks." he told her in between deep breaths. A shiver went down Sirius's back. She swallowed and approached him cautiously. Softly, she patted him on the back.

"Need some change for a tellie?"

"Tellie? Like a feletone?" the boy looked at her through his leaves then stuffed the remaining peppermint into his pocket. Sirius grinned, a long, lopsided smile she inherited from her father.

"Frank!" a voice called. The duo turned around to find a man jogging toward them. He was a taller man, perhaps in his thirties, with bouncy brown hair like Frank but more serious brown eyes. He had on jeans and a green t-shirt that read "Protect the Hippogriffs!" He side hugged his son and gave a big sigh of relief.

"Did you run the whole way?" Sirius asked curiously, smirking at his t-shirt.

"Ah, well, sort of." the man replied, chuckling nervously. He pulled on his t-shirt, trying to pull it to the other side so that it would fold over itself and hide the words. Sirius straightened her face.

"I'm surprised you actually found him."

"Ha. Ha." the man replied.

"Uh, by the way, just curious, what exactly is a 'hippogriff'?" The man's face deflated. Frank looked at her then looked up at his father curiously, waiting to see how he got out of this hole.

"Ah. Ah!" He said, getting excited as he began to unravel the first story that popped into his head, "You see-you see. I am...am a-a writer! Yes, a writer."

Sirius waited patiently.

"And-uh-and, I have a book. And it's about hippogriffs. So, yeah, there."

"And, what are hippogriffs?"

"Oh," he puffed out his cheeks then laughed, "You know, just imaginary creatures that don't actually exist because they aren't real, you know."

"Ah." Sirius slowly smirked, "And what book would this be? I'd love to read it." The man deflated visually at these words.

"Oh. Oh, you would? Oh! Well, you see, it's not out yet. It's still being written. By me. I'm still writing it."

"Okay." Sirius put her hands in her pockets. "Who should I look for when it finally comes out?"

"Oh. Name. Uh. Neville. Yeah. My name is Neville Longbottom. Goodbye now!" the man gave a nervous wave and took off down Fanshawe Crescent, Frank in tow. When he turned the corner there was a pause then a pop! Sirius smiled and turned away to look at her house once more.


End file.
